


Sunshine and Rain

by SolosOrca



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Rinko is the best mother, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24471253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolosOrca/pseuds/SolosOrca
Summary: Rinko cares for her son whilst he's sick and reflects on her life so far.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Sunshine and Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a zine which I think was called 'Prince of Sundays', it was a gen zine. 
> 
> I think Rinko is really interesting as a character, especially if she is a lawyer.

Echizen Rinko knew something was wrong when Karupin came scampering into the kitchen alone and started mewing pathetically for food. Normally, Ryoma would be right behind him, but today the kitchen was completely free of her son. 

Ryoma was well known for sleeping in, but he’d gotten a lot better at getting up recently with the promise of morning tennis practice. (Rinko was sure this was less due to the tennis and more because of his friends)

When, 5 minutes later, Ryoma still hadn’t come down, Rinko headed upstairs, knocking carefully on Ryoma’s door.

“Ryoma, dear,” she called, “you’ll be late for school.”

The only response she got was a groan followed by a deep, chesty cough.

“I’ll make you some porridge,” she said, “and some medicine.”

* * *

When she returned with breakfast, medicine and Karupin, Ryoma had managed to sit up on bed. He looked dreadfully pale, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed. He didn’t even complain when Rinko felt the temperature of his forehead before stroking his hair.

“Feel sick,” Ryoma muttered, gazing down at the porridge.

“Eat what you can,” Rinko said softly, still stroking his hair. “Then get some rest, I’ll let the school know you’ll be off.”

Ryoma nodded. “I’ll miss practice,” he said dejectedly. “Buchou promised to play with me.”

Rinko smiled to herself, she’d never met any of Ryoma’s teammates, but from bits of information she’d gleaned she knew her son considered playing his captain to be Special.

“I’m sure he’ll play you once you feel better,” she said reassuringly. “He wouldn’t want to play against you whilst you’re ill and risk making you worse.”

“I guess,” Ryoma muttered, knowing it was the truth but not wanting to accept that he had to wait to play against Tezuka.

Rinko gave him a hug whilst he wasn’t in the mood to squirm out of it -she missed the time when he was younger and insisted on hugs. “I have some emails to reply to,” she said. “I’ll be up in a bit to pick up your dish.”

“Okay.”

She left Ryoma to pick at his breakfast and started her work. Moving to Japan had not been easy for her career. Upping sticks and flying across the Pacific Ocean just after setting up your own law firm was not considered a good idea, but Rinko was determined that neither her business nor her family would fail. None of her colleagues had understood why she’d had to move, but she knew how important it was to her son and husband -and, however much she loved said husband, she didn’t trust him to look after said son. They’d play tennis all day without any thought to cooking or laundry.

There were plenty of emails waiting for her to reply to and lots of phone calls to make. Working against the time difference was hard but Rinko wasn’t the sort of woman to let something like geography and the spinning of the Earth get on her way.

When she went back up to Ryoma’s room an hour later, he was fast asleep, Karupin curled up next to him. It was an adorable image and if she’d had a camera she’d capture it for posterity (and to embarrass Ryoma with should he bring home a prospective partner). 

By mid-afternoon though, Ryoma had recovered enough to be able to get downstairs and raid the biscuit tin. His cough was still going strong- a deeply and chesty thing that convulsed through his whole body- but if he was eating again then he was on the road to recovery. He even squirmed when Rinko hugged him, but not enough to get away and didn’t whine. She sent him back to bed once he’d eaten a small meal.

“I don’t feel like sleeping!” He protested before yawning.

“If you want to play Tezuka-buchou then you’ll need to rest,” Rinko said firmly and Ryoma marched up to his room with no further protests.

Rinko checked in on him throughout the rest of the afternoon. He mainly played video games, but she’d found him napping a couple of times.

Later, just as she was making a start on dinner, there was a knock at the door. It didn’t take much to work out who’d be visiting. 

Standing outside the door, looking slightly nervous, were the Seigaku regulars.

Rinko had only ever seen Momoshiro over the fence when he’d come to pick up Ryoma for school, but she could work out who all the rest were based on what she’d picked up from Ryoma.

At the front was Momoshiro and next to him was a redhead who she was sure must be Kikumaru. Next to him was a very worried looking boy, who she was pretty sure was Oishi (“Oishi-senpai worries too much,” she’d once heard Ryoma say). Then there was a tall boy with glasses who must be Inui and a short boy with a serene smile who was probably Fuji. Lurking at the back doing a poor job of not looking concerned must be Kaidoh and the boy holding a box with ‘Kawamura Sushi’ printed on was definitely Kawamura. And then, yes, Tezuka-buchou stood with his aura of authority.

“Is Ochib-“ Kikumaru began before clapping a hand over his mouth.

Tezuka cleared his throat. “Good afternoon Echizen-san,” He said, bowing politely (after a couple of seconds the others followed suit). “We’ve come to see how Echizen is.”

Rinko smiled, “he’s recovering well. I’m sure he’d be pleased to see all of you.”

He’d whine and moan and pretend to be annoyed, but Rinko knew how close he was to this group of boys. She was so happy he’d found friends, she knew how miserable and isolated he’d been back in America.

Getting eight boys into Ryoma’s room was a bit of a squeeze, but none of them complained. Rinko took up snacks and drinks and was thanked politely by them all. Such good boys, she wished Ryoma would invite them over more.

Then she went back to making dinner, listening to the shouting and laughter going on upstairs.

Her colleagues would never understand why she’d given up so much. But her son had found a place he belonged. She didn’t regret a thing.


End file.
